Because.
Eerie Elevators
Few elevators are as photographed as the Ahwahnee's. We wish and hope and believe that every Yosemite-visiting Kubrick fan knows to stop by this grand lodge. And gawk.
Because.
Because.
My Mezzanine
One of my earliest addresses was the mezzanine of a hotel my dad ran. I liked living on a mezzanine -- it was probably the first French word I learned, although I didn't know it at the time -- because it seemed like a floor that shouldn't exist, hovering somewhere between the lobby and the "real" floors of the hotel. Also, the "z" factor appealed. Children are fond of words with a lot of "z" going on.
Mezzanines, which boast balconies that look over public spaces below, can still be found here and there (or at least floors called mezzanines). The historic Placer Hotel of Helena, Montana, has a fine example below. (The hotel has since been turned into apartments, but we trust that amazing mezzanine is intact.)
Shouldn't we be sharing a pitcher of rosemary iced tea up there, gossiping about the new-to-Big-Sky-country cityfolk checking in, right this very moment?
Image: Helena History
Mezzanines, which boast balconies that look over public spaces below, can still be found here and there (or at least floors called mezzanines). The historic Placer Hotel of Helena, Montana, has a fine example below. (The hotel has since been turned into apartments, but we trust that amazing mezzanine is intact.)
Shouldn't we be sharing a pitcher of rosemary iced tea up there, gossiping about the new-to-Big-Sky-country cityfolk checking in, right this very moment?
Image: Helena History
Front Desk Don'ts
"The Hotel Inspector" on BBC America is a favorite (or "favourite"?) of mine. In short, a famous hotelier visits down-and-out-ish hotels and gives them tips on improving their lots. Some of the advice is hard to hear, but I hope everyone is better for it.
Last night the inspector visited a quaint inn, only to find a scary police notice taped to the front desk. "Cluck cluck," clucked the inspector, and I agreed.
I got to thinking about things I've cocked an eyebrow at while waiting at various front desks. A short list:
1. Employees on personal calls. We all have to make them, but when customers are within earshot, a discreet "goodbye" is in order
2. Fake flowers
3. A greasy styrofoam container full of overly fragrant left-overs
4. A stack of complaint forms (don't give the customers ideas)
5. Nothing (a bit cold and austere)
Coming soon: Front desk likes!
Last night the inspector visited a quaint inn, only to find a scary police notice taped to the front desk. "Cluck cluck," clucked the inspector, and I agreed.
I got to thinking about things I've cocked an eyebrow at while waiting at various front desks. A short list:
1. Employees on personal calls. We all have to make them, but when customers are within earshot, a discreet "goodbye" is in order
2. Fake flowers
3. A greasy styrofoam container full of overly fragrant left-overs
4. A stack of complaint forms (don't give the customers ideas)
5. Nothing (a bit cold and austere)
Coming soon: Front desk likes!
Hotel Room Cooking
One of my dearest friends, a flight attendant, travels with an insulated food bag that always mystifies and delights me. For in that bag are things that not only need refrigeration, but cooking. I swear I've seen rice, chicken, noodles and Beef Wellington with clarified butter and baby carrots.
The woman knows how to wield a hotel iron. This fascinating list has more suggestions. I can't support any of this, really, because, well. Where has that lightbulb been?
Flickr image by aaronx
The woman knows how to wield a hotel iron. This fascinating list has more suggestions. I can't support any of this, really, because, well. Where has that lightbulb been?
Flickr image by aaronx
Chateau Marmont's Magic Window
Condé Nast Traveler picked Room 59 of the Chateau Marmont as its March 2011 "Room with a View." Nice.
I just want to sleep under this churchy lobby window. I wouldn't even need a blanket. Maybe I'd borrow a fringe-y piano shawl from somewhere else in the lobby. I think the Chateau has about 95 of them laying about. Which rules.
I just want to sleep under this churchy lobby window. I wouldn't even need a blanket. Maybe I'd borrow a fringe-y piano shawl from somewhere else in the lobby. I think the Chateau has about 95 of them laying about. Which rules.
17 Places to Sit
A new postcard find that I find myself staring at far too much. Eye, if you will, the Murrieta Hot Springs Hotel, circa...1970?
I went searching for the Murrieta, to see if it still exists. No luck so far, but I've got to know three things:
1) Does it still have two couches and four squishy chairs, making for a total of ten seats, angled around a small table? A very impressive conversation nook. Nearby are seven more seats huddled together. Everyone share. NOW! It's the '70s.
2) The Victorian globe lamps. Again, like the chairs and couch, there are... a lot. Maybe over 30 in this one snapshot.
3) Dried flowers, branches, buds, everywhere. A tiny Toltec idol on an end table. A rock wall. Red carpet. Red wallpaper. Red ceiling. White drapes.
1970s hotel style, you had it GOING ON.
I went searching for the Murrieta, to see if it still exists. No luck so far, but I've got to know three things:
1) Does it still have two couches and four squishy chairs, making for a total of ten seats, angled around a small table? A very impressive conversation nook. Nearby are seven more seats huddled together. Everyone share. NOW! It's the '70s.
2) The Victorian globe lamps. Again, like the chairs and couch, there are... a lot. Maybe over 30 in this one snapshot.
3) Dried flowers, branches, buds, everywhere. A tiny Toltec idol on an end table. A rock wall. Red carpet. Red wallpaper. Red ceiling. White drapes.
1970s hotel style, you had it GOING ON.
Should Hotels Show "Their" Movies?
The Telegraph has a riveting rundown of top movie hotels; we'd like to spotlight the oh-so-chic Hotel Vertigo in San Francisco, for not only serving as a location in, surprise surprise, "Vertigo" (sorry to spoil the surprise), but also for playing the Hitchcock classic on loop for modern-day visitors.
Chris and I recently stayed at a hotel that didn't necessarily serve as a film location, but it was near where several well-known features had been shot (and likely housed some cast and crew). We were excited to spy a TV and DVDs in the lobby, thinking we'd get a cocktail and settle in for a locally made flick.
Didn't happen. They did, however, have a kid movie playing to a kid-free lobby.
Are hotels under pressure to show movies made on the premises? Maybe not, but they should. Call it the Overlookian Principle: Your hotel is famous for something big. Use it.
Chris and I recently stayed at a hotel that didn't necessarily serve as a film location, but it was near where several well-known features had been shot (and likely housed some cast and crew). We were excited to spy a TV and DVDs in the lobby, thinking we'd get a cocktail and settle in for a locally made flick.
Didn't happen. They did, however, have a kid movie playing to a kid-free lobby.
Are hotels under pressure to show movies made on the premises? Maybe not, but they should. Call it the Overlookian Principle: Your hotel is famous for something big. Use it.
Table d'hôte
An elegant phrase I've loved and blatantly misused. Translation? Host's table, or the table where hotel or restaurant guests dine together. Nowadays the term refers to a prix fixe menu.
Shy types do not care for table d'hôte -- the original meaning, that is -- but hotels and restaurants should revive the idea en masse. Sometimes you want to dine in peace, but usually you want to eavesdrop, and at the common table, eavesdropping is art.
The magical Cafe Pasqual's in Santa Fe has the perfect common table. Friendly, how-do-you-do Texans in parkas parked next to locals reading the classics. Me? I'm just shoveling griddled polenta by the forkful and trying, unsuccessfully, not to stare.
Shy types do not care for table d'hôte -- the original meaning, that is -- but hotels and restaurants should revive the idea en masse. Sometimes you want to dine in peace, but usually you want to eavesdrop, and at the common table, eavesdropping is art.
The magical Cafe Pasqual's in Santa Fe has the perfect common table. Friendly, how-do-you-do Texans in parkas parked next to locals reading the classics. Me? I'm just shoveling griddled polenta by the forkful and trying, unsuccessfully, not to stare.
Shower/Tub Combo, I Salute You
It's rare to peep inside a hotel bathroom and spy a shower/tub combo nowadays. I know. Studies from the International Hotelinistic Institute say 174.6 percent of all travelers take showers, while a surprising 205 percent never bathe at all. Traditional baths are *so* 1920, the same studies say. And people have unwarranted but ever-present cooties issues.
But still. When something from the past is in staggering/keeling over mode, I have a bit of tristesse. How I'll miss stepping over the rim of the tub, slightly tripping, catching myself on a wet towel rack, and then showering while pondering the last person to take a bath in this very spot.
And, it's true: I will long for that plastic-y curtain slightly brushing at my damp hiney. Can anything in this world duplicate the particular brand of willies that momentary act causes? No.
Are you sad, too?
Flickr image by Jurvetson
But still. When something from the past is in staggering/keeling over mode, I have a bit of tristesse. How I'll miss stepping over the rim of the tub, slightly tripping, catching myself on a wet towel rack, and then showering while pondering the last person to take a bath in this very spot.
And, it's true: I will long for that plastic-y curtain slightly brushing at my damp hiney. Can anything in this world duplicate the particular brand of willies that momentary act causes? No.
Are you sad, too?
Flickr image by Jurvetson
Cage Elevator
Castle Green, in Pasadena, boasts a clackety-clack traditional cage elevator. Now condos, the former hotel is, hands down, my favorite building in California. My devotion to this dome-laden dream place is as large as its dome-y rooftops.
I find it impossible not to stand across the street and stare, slack of jaw. Impossible not to long to live there. Impossible not to wish I was just a doorknob in some hallway for a day, or maybe that cage elevator, creakily transporting guests and luggage.
You've also wished you were an elevator, right? Or an old hotel doorknob?
Image: Castle Green
I find it impossible not to stand across the street and stare, slack of jaw. Impossible not to long to live there. Impossible not to wish I was just a doorknob in some hallway for a day, or maybe that cage elevator, creakily transporting guests and luggage.
You've also wished you were an elevator, right? Or an old hotel doorknob?
Image: Castle Green
Great Hallways of the West
La Posada Hotel, Winslow, Arizona
La Posada also wins the coveted "Great Back Lawns Upon Which We Like to Sip Toasty Irish Coffee and Watch Trains Rumble by on Bitter, See-the-Breath December Nights" title, too.
La Posada also wins the coveted "Great Back Lawns Upon Which We Like to Sip Toasty Irish Coffee and Watch Trains Rumble by on Bitter, See-the-Breath December Nights" title, too.
Room-Adjacent Roadrunners
Heat. Long vistas. And something darting in the bushes.
It was a pleasure to write about Two Bunch Palms in Desert Hot Springs for NBC. The place is known for its yappy, curious roadrunners. Couldn't every inn use an official hotel bird?
Image: Two Bunch Palms
It was a pleasure to write about Two Bunch Palms in Desert Hot Springs for NBC. The place is known for its yappy, curious roadrunners. Couldn't every inn use an official hotel bird?
Image: Two Bunch Palms
Hotel Camp
Tents, walks in the beach, and all the amenities of a fine inn. I'm recommending El Capitan Canyon, north of Santa Barbara, for Valentine's Day.
Image: El Capitan Canyon
Image: El Capitan Canyon
San Luis for Lovers
Madonna Inn + Valentine's 4evr. Am I right? I believe I am.
After all, the hotel has a room called Romance. The name. Is right. On the door!!!
I recently wrote up the San Luis Obispo landmark as a great getaway for February 14. Still left: The Buffalo Room!
After all, the hotel has a room called Romance. The name. Is right. On the door!!!
I recently wrote up the San Luis Obispo landmark as a great getaway for February 14. Still left: The Buffalo Room!
Lovin' on a 1966 Landmark
Happy days indeed: Century Plaza Hotel in Century City has been preserved.
I feel like I want to be listening to some sort of Les Baxter moog music when I look at this hotel. This snapshot by Jetalone captures the 1966-ish curve of the hotel. So few spots sport true curve these days.
New hotels soon-to-be-built: Are you up to the curve challenge?
Image by Jetalone
I feel like I want to be listening to some sort of Les Baxter moog music when I look at this hotel. This snapshot by Jetalone captures the 1966-ish curve of the hotel. So few spots sport true curve these days.
New hotels soon-to-be-built: Are you up to the curve challenge?
Image by Jetalone
Mauve-olous
An excess of mauve. Carpets, drapery, furniture. Says, to me, that the hotel was refurbished -- or possibly furbished -- circa 1983.
I'm not talking hints of mauve. I'm talking mauve coming out of the airducts. Mauve-osity. Mauve everywhere.
What is the dominating hotel hue now? We're guessing in the silvers/earth tones. Maybe light grey?
I'm not talking hints of mauve. I'm talking mauve coming out of the airducts. Mauve-osity. Mauve everywhere.
What is the dominating hotel hue now? We're guessing in the silvers/earth tones. Maybe light grey?
Sequoia Suites
One reason I enjoyed writing about Wuksachi Lodge on NBC is that it is a newer lodge in a national park. I'm a fan -- well, let's be honest -- I'm obsessed with the decades-old hotels of our parks.
Furnace Creek Inn? Hi. LOVE you. Is that too forward?
The Wuksachi is barely a decade old, but still has presence. And all those tall, tall, tall trees outside its door.
Image: Wuksachi Lodge
Furnace Creek Inn? Hi. LOVE you. Is that too forward?
The Wuksachi is barely a decade old, but still has presence. And all those tall, tall, tall trees outside its door.
Image: Wuksachi Lodge
Orange
I'm forever on the lookout for the truly unusual hotel room. I like the standard-issue chain room -- there's something about expectations being met -- but if I can sleep inside a giant light bulb, well, I'm charmed.
My friend's family will be staying at the Propeller Island City Lodge in Germany soon. Of note: the all-orange room:
Is it like napping inside a huge piece of citrus? Or the center of the sun, perhaps? Must find out.
My friend's family will be staying at the Propeller Island City Lodge in Germany soon. Of note: the all-orange room:
Is it like napping inside a huge piece of citrus? Or the center of the sun, perhaps? Must find out.
The Highway Hotel Sign
Saluting the tall -- talllll -- hotel sign, constructed with one purpose in mind: find customers as they fly by on the freeway.
Here's hoping that these signs last. Travelers now frequently find lodging online, no sign or cement or marquee required.
Flickr image by puroticorico
Here's hoping that these signs last. Travelers now frequently find lodging online, no sign or cement or marquee required.
Flickr image by puroticorico
Citrus, Dust, England?
I like dichotomy. An icy center in a hot bon-bon. A sweet person at the heart of a grouch. Don't we all?
To continue the thought: I like stepping off a chug-chug, windows-down historic train, on a dusty summer afternoon, into the dim lobby of a Tudor building that is -- surprise surprise -- not far from a bevy of Southern California citrus groves.
The Cotswolds served with an orange twist.
I like Glen Tavern Inn in Santa Paula. And don't even START me on the lobby bathroom. Swank. The paper towels. I'd take the train back just to lather up again.
To continue the thought: I like stepping off a chug-chug, windows-down historic train, on a dusty summer afternoon, into the dim lobby of a Tudor building that is -- surprise surprise -- not far from a bevy of Southern California citrus groves.
The Cotswolds served with an orange twist.
I like Glen Tavern Inn in Santa Paula. And don't even START me on the lobby bathroom. Swank. The paper towels. I'd take the train back just to lather up again.
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